


These Still Waters

by Lady_Therion



Category: Once Upon a Time (TV), Summer (2008)
Genre: Cuddling & Snuggling, F/M, Skinny Dipping
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-21
Updated: 2016-12-21
Packaged: 2018-09-10 20:57:23
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,342
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8939017
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lady_Therion/pseuds/Lady_Therion
Summary: They meet while lost in a fog.





	

**Author's Note:**

  * For [beastlycheese](https://archiveofourown.org/users/beastlycheese/gifts).



* * *

 

The first time they meet, they are both naked.

 

Shaun is standing at the edge of the old wooden dock like he is standing at the edge of the world —and, in a way, he is. The late morning fog has erased the lake completely, gathering over its mirror black surface like a funeral shroud.

 

It’s funny how he’s never seen the lake like this before.

 

It’s getting colder now, the chilly bite of autumn nipping at his ears and fingers. Still, he doesn’t resist the urge to strip down and dive in. Because even though everything has changed, there are some things that haven’t.

 

The lake is callous and unforgiving. Shaun curses as his spare and underused muscles clench with shock. His chest feels like a spring trap. His heart panics. _Good_ , he thinks. _I’m alive_. So he swims on—paddling in little circles that grow into full moons.

 

He drifts out into the ghostly white horizon, leaving the old wooden dock behind him. He doesn’t know exactly what he’s swimming towards: his only wish is to vanish for a little while, to leave some of his burdens behind...

 

He thinks about his best friend and how he left his ashes here.

 

But the fog embraces him and helps him forget: it mutes all sound and sight and smell and it isn’t long before Shaun realises that he is truly lost.

 

Blissfulness soon bleeds into uncertainty. So he looks for the shore where he spent his summers and frowns when he cannot find it.

 

So he treads and treads and treads.

 

He is starting to grow tired.

 

Then: a splash and bubble of laughter.

 

He whirls around, unsure of “where” or “what” or “who.”

 

Then he sees her.

 

She emerges from the fog like a siren in a storybook, pale and ethereal and mysterious. At first, Shaun wonders if he has slid into a dream...but no, this woman is _very_ real.

 

She is all dark wet hair, bright blue eyes, and rose-colored smiles.

 

She is also just as bare arsed as he is, which makes him wonder if it isn’t too late to sink down and bury himself in the bottom...

 

She holds his gaze and laughs, a sound that’s pure and free and utterly charming—so much so that Shaun laughs with her (though his laugh is slow and shy and wavering). They laugh like they are sharing a private joke. _How long has it been since he shared anything with anyone?_

 

“Are you lost?” she asks, gliding towards him.

 

Shaun considers his answer.

 

“No,” he says. “Not now.”

 

She laughs again, then dives beneath. He feels a soft brush across his thigh and then again along the other side of his ribs.

 

_She swims like a trout._

 

She surfaces again and says, “Race you to the shore.”

 

 _Then suddenly Shaun is sixteen-years-old and it is the thick of August and it is not_ **_this_ ** _dark-haired woman that eggs him on, but another girl from a different time and a different life…_

 

He shakes it off, willing his mind back into the present.

 

The momentary lapse is enough to give this mystery woman a head start.

 

She wins, of course.

 

She must have an uncanny sense of direction though—the fog did not seem to mystify her as much as it did him.

 

The woman floats closer to the grassy banks, towards a pile of clothes that Shaun hadn’t noticed before. She rises from the water, unabashed, her naked flesh pink and shivering from exertion. Shaun sputters and reddens and turns his back to give her privacy.

 

But when he turns around again, she is still naked and exposed.

 

She stares at him from the shore—bold and brazen—as if daring him not to look away. Shaun has never backed down from a dare before, and while a part of him wants to make this an exception, he is utterly helpless.

 

Her body is lithe and luminescent. There are slender curves and hollow dips that beckon him to explore. Embarrassed, he feels his cock stirring in the shallow waves and is thankful that the lakewater reaches up to his hips.

 

“I’m Belle,” she says, finally.

 

“I’m Shaun.”

 

***

 

The second time they meet, they are both fully clothed.

 

Shaun is only a little disappointed about that, but is secretly pleased to know that Belle is too. He knows this because of the way she bites her bottom lip, looking over his worn jacket and frayed jeans like she could undress him with her eyes.

 

She didn’t have to imagine that much either—Shaun had to come join her on shore eventually.

 

It’s a few days later and they are both at the gas station where Shaun works. He gave Belle his number before they parted from the lake, thinking nothing would come of it. Then he gets a text almost as soon as he came home that said, ‘ _When are you free? ;)’_

 

It’s a quiet night and Shaun makes coffee for the both of them, putting extra cream and sugar in Belle’s styrofoam cup.

He learns that she’s a swim coach at the local high school and that she’s also freshly imported from Australia. That doesn’t make any sense to him. If Belle had to come from anywhere, she couldn’t be from earth.

 

“I was hoping that I didn’t scare you off,” she says, leaning over the counter. She smells like citrus and jasmine, and there is a dark errant curl that Shaun desperately wants to tuck behind the shell of her ear. “We barely know each other and you’ve already seen me naked.”  

 

Shaun glances away, still bashful at the memory. “It’s not the strangest thing that’s happened to me.”

 

A long and pleasant silence stretches between them. They finish their coffee and talk about other things. It turns out that Belle doesn’t live very far from him and when she’s not teaching teenage girls how to swim, she spends her time working at the school library.

 

“I love books,” she says.

 

Shaun doesn’t know what to say to that. He thinks he would have liked reading, if he wasn’t so miserably shite at it in school.

 

But he is not ready to share that with her yet.

 

***

 

The third, fourth, and fifth time they meet, they are only half-dressed.

 

It’s the middle of the night and they have just finished watching some forgettable film at some forgettable theater.

 

But they always take their time before coming home.

 

Now they are in the backseat of his car, Belle gasping above him as she peels off her silky blouse and bra. Shaun cups her little breasts, gently rubbing her rosy nipples into hardened nubs that beg to be licked and suckled. So he does—slowly, tenderly.

 

She makes quick work of his shirt and jacket and pushes him down to leave a trail of eager and messy kisses along the coarse strip of hair on his stomach. He loves how her lipstick leaves their perfect coral prints behind.

 

Shaun simply cannot— _cannot_ —comprehend the animal magnetism that binds them together.

 

But every thought in his brain drains like a sieve when she unbuckles his belt and frees his aching cock, her expression wanting and hungry before she swallows him whole. He arches his back as she massages his thighs and then later his balls.

 

She hums around his throbbing tip and says sweetly urgent things like, “That’s it, that’s it, love...” and “Will you come for me, Shaun?”

 

 _Fuck yes_ , he’ll come for her.

 

He comes for her _hard,_ again and again and again.

 

Belle simply can’t have enough of him and she tells him so, which makes him groan and grunt and cry—tears leaking from the corners of his eyes.  

 

And then she says the most confounding thing of all...

 

“You’re so beautiful, Shaun.”

 

***

 

Around the sixth, seventh, and eighth time they meet, it’s at Belle’s flat and this time it’s _him_ who simply cannot be sated.

 

They barely make it to her bed before Shaun spreads her legs and tears off her panties—she makes a quip about having to buy more.

 

“Buy more then,” he says. “I’m thirsty.”

 

He _is_ thirsty; he loves doing this for her.

She swats him as he murmurs into her sweet cunt and has his fill—his tongue lapping, circling, _sucking_ until she screams his name once, twice, three times, and more. He uses the edge of his teeth to draw out her wetness until she’s absolutely _soaked_ for him.

 

“Shaun—I can’t! It’s too much,” she cries.

 

But Shaun proves her wrong when he slides two fingers into her, then three. He crooks them forward to gently massage her damp inner walls so that the next time she comes, she squirts deliciously into his face.

 

It’s the most exquisite thing Shaun has ever seen.

 

“You’re so beautiful, Belle,” he whispers when she collapses onto the bed in a boneless heap.

 

***

 

They meet as much as they can now.

 

On weekdays, they meet at Belle’s flat after school. Eventually Shaun will bring her to his house, but wants to consider Daniel first: their relationship with one another is still fragile and tenuous. Shaun just wants to make sure that his best friend’s son had somewhere to belong.

 

But it’s not as though Daniel doesn’t know about Belle. In fact, Daniel couldn’t be happier for him.

 

“It’s about time you got laid, mate,” he says.

 

And Shaun does get laid— _a lot_ , especially on weekends when they strip down to nothing and dive into the lake. _Their_ lake, now. They swim laps and spend lazy afternoons floating along like overfed otters. Then one of them would lead the other back to the dock, where they could fuck each other as much as they pleased.

 

Shaun’s favorite moments are when Belle rolls on top of him, taking him as deep as he could go. She would ride him for what felt like hours, her hips rolling like an impatient tide. He would dig his fingers into the wet tendrils of her hair.

 

Autumn is fading fast so their outdoor trysts can’t last for much longer. Shaun relishes the Belle’s sweet scent mixed with the crisp blue air around him. He savors the way she sighs his name into the wind when she climaxes, her sweet muscles grasping at him, milking him for all he was worth.

 

Shaun wishes he could live inside this moment forever.

 

***

 

Around Christmas, she meets him at his place.

 

Shaun has gone through the trouble of putting up a small tree, and there’s even a wreath with tinsel on the front door. Daniel is out meeting some friends at the pub, but he’ll be back in time to open a bottle of wine with them later.

 

For now, Shaun leads Belle to the couch where she leans on his shoulder as he rubs her arm in soothing strokes. She turns to press her lips against his ear and says, “Don’t be mad, but I have a present for you.”

 

“I thought we weren’t going to do presents?” Shaun pouts at the sudden change of plans: Belle explicitly told him that she has never been interested in presents, no matter what the occasion.  

 

“I couldn’t resist this one,” she says, reaching into her purse. “I thought this might be perfect for you.” Then she hands him something small and square and wrapped in gold paper. There is a red bow and a tag with his name written in Belle’s curly script.

 

Of course it turns out to be a book.

 

Shaun can feel the bottom of his stomach drop.

 

“It’s _The Wind in the Willows_ ,” Belle says. “One of my favorites. I’ve had this one since I was a kid. You can even see some of my drawings in the back.”  

 

Shaun thumbs the intricate gold thread that wove the title. He’s seen this book before—on one of the many shelves in Belle’s apartment.

 

Her beautiful face falters. “You don’t like it?”

 

“No!” He grabs her hand and squeezes it, hoping that she can understand. “No Belle. It’s just...I can’t…”

 

Shaun is too ashamed to say it at first and the confession that comes next happens in staccato: filled with slips and stammers.

 

He talks about cold schoolrooms and cruel teachers and caustic laughter at his expense. He remembers trying _so_ _hard_ to learn, to will the words into shapes he could understand, their real meaning always out of reach no matter what he did.

 

“I was just too stupid,” says Shaun. “I still am.”

 

Belle pierces his heart with those blue eyes of hers before bringing his mangled hand to her lips, worshipping his fingers with gentle kisses. It’s a gesture she’s done hundreds of times, and it still makes him weak when she does it.

 

“No you’re not, Shaun,” she says, softly. Then she captures the side of his face and says, “I’ll help you. I’ve had loads of experience with this at the library. You’d be surprised at how many students have trouble learning and it’s really just a matter of—”

 

“This isn’t something you can fix Belle.”

 

The words escape before he could stop them and he cannot look at her after. This is when she will leave him, he thinks. This is how he will screw things up.

 

Shaun was only ever good at breaking things, after all.

 

But Belle does not leave.

 

She kisses him instead with an intensity that leaves him stunned and breathless.

 

“All you have to do is try, Shaun.”

 

 _But he_ **_has_ ** _tried..._

 

“But Belle...I’m afraid.”

 

“You won’t need to be,” she says. “I’m here. I’ll always be here.”

 

***

 

Later that night, Daniel comes home to find Belle and Shaun tangled like two sleepy puppies along the length of the couch.

 

He grabs a throw blanket to toss over them and sees a copy of _The Wind in the Willows_ spread out on the floor.

 

Its pages are open to the end of the first chapter.

 


End file.
